


The Remarkable Invisible Marvel

by AuthorLoremIpsum



Series: The Fringes of Arcane Science [3]
Category: Fringe (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Glass Scientists (Webcomic), The Invisible Man - H. G. Wells
Genre: AU, Gen, Hypnosis, Invisibility, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Violence, canon adjacent, casefic, mild body horror, watson style storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorLoremIpsum/pseuds/AuthorLoremIpsum
Summary: An old acquaintance of Mr. Griffin comes calling, and to the horror of the Society for Arcane Sciences, he promptly goes missing. Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson arrive on the scene seeking answers of their own, having been plagued by unsettling dreams, but join the search for who could be responsible for what's happened to Griffin.Only to learn that their mysterious enemy is growing more bold, and the threat to the Society is only more present than it ever was.
Relationships: Dr. Henry Jekyll/Dr. Robert Lanyon, Mr. Archer/Mr. Griffin (The Glass Scientists), Mr. Griffin/Doctor Kemp, Sherlock Holmes&John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: The Fringes of Arcane Science [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1478030
Comments: 23
Kudos: 48





	1. Prologue - Interview

**Author's Note:**

> Might not be as gorey or violent as the last two, but I'd say it makes up for it in the Mystery department >:3
> 
> Also- more classic gothic lit characters? In my fanfiction? It's more likely than you think
> 
> how long has it been??? six months? thanks for your patience gang!!!

Mr. Griffin was irritated.

This was not unusual, as he was known about the Society as a man of foul temper, but today in particular he found himself incredibly annoyed and frustrated. In his hands, he fidgeted with a telegram that had come to him in the night explaining that something of an old friend was visiting with demands of a sort. The demand was simple enough, but like any artist forced to display his work before its completion, Griffin did not look forward to showing off his work.

Additionally, the sender of the letter had promised to tell a very detrimental secret if Griffin did not comply, which convinced him that something suspicious was truly afoot. He thought of a ceremonial knife belonging to Maijabi that hung on the wall of their shared laboratory, of how he might fetch it if things grew dangerous. No, no the sender was not so violent a man as to need a knife to stop him.

Everything would go smoothly, it had to.

He welcomed the sender of the telegram with a terse nod before leading them into the Society. Being discreet, no one paid them any mind as they walked into the lab. Griffin was too preoccupied getting on with the showing and touring that he did not notice his guest turning the lock of the laboratory door.

"So, have you tried this extended invisibility process on a human being yet?" The guest asked, pulling at the watch from their pocket and beginning to turn the key.

Griffin scowled, "Do you take me for a cruel man? Of course not! The only person in this building suitable for this process is myself, given my... skin condition." His expression turned somber, looking to his machinery and animals with a sigh. "It's incredibly painful and one could potentially die from fear, I don't intend to force anyone to that."

"You don't, perhaps. Say, have I ever shown you my father's pocket watch?"

Griffin turned to look, frowning in confusion as the watch fell open. Inside, a small light was glowing and clockwork was ticking. "How is it lit like that?"

"Oh just a few bioluminescent chemicals," the guest hummed, pressing a button. Small lenses began to flicker across the light, three green and one red, four clicks, then the normal glow of the watch. 

Griffin blinked, and suddenly found himself frozen, unable to turn away from these little flashing lights.

"Now, Mr. Griffin, would you mind showing me how to make yourself invisible?" The guest asked, a smile forming on their face.


	2. The Missing Mister Griffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes arrive to find the Society in chaos, Mr. Griffin is MISSING!

As a veteran of war, dreams and I had ceased getting along since my return to England. And since my adventures with Sherlock Holmes began, as well as his spectacular fall from the top of the Reichenbach, they had only grown in their terrible nature. 

But it was rare to have dreams as clear as I did that night.

I was standing atop the Reichenbach with Holmes, or rather, at the beginning of the path that followed the cliffside. Ahead, I could see him and Moriarty locked in combat, for it seemed the professor was somewhat skilled in martial arts as well, at least enough to throw a punch.

Though I knew how this was to end, for they were dangerously nearing the edge of the cliff.

So I ran, charging towards them with all my strength and driving my shoulder into Moriarty. His balance thrown, he slipped and fell from the clifftop. Alas, I had run too quickly, and my momentum quickly began to carry me after him towards the swirling water.

I felt Holmes grab my coat to save me, and I looked back, meeting his eye. It was not enough to stop me, and Holmes pitched forward, feet slipping in the mist soaked earth and throwing us over the side and down into the darkness of the falls.

We splashed into the water and I felt my spine snap against the rocks upon impact. But the dream did not end there, and I did not wake.

My body floated down the river and washed up on a black and pebble covered shore. Beside it lay Holmes' corpse, his back turned to me, a deep gash in his skull bleeding into the earth and the shallows.

He was not breathing, and nor was I.

I heard the crunching of footsteps in gravel, and woke to the sound of my door opening. 

Holmes stood there, holding his dressing gown closed with one hand, face drawn and sorrowful. Red ringed his eyes and stood sharply against his pale cheek in the low light, I suspect he had been crying not moments before. He approached my bed as I sat up, rubbing my back where the ache from the dream still stung. Sitting, he placed a hand over where mine lay on the bed. "John, you are alright, yes?"

"I believe so," I said, raising my eyes to meet his. "And you, Sherlock, you are well?"

"I think so, though a dream has left me in a considerable state of distress."

"Well, that would make two of us."

His brows raised in surprise, "Perhaps the last case, Miss Mollinue's, had more of an impact on us than we should like to admit."

"I did almost lose you again, were it not for Mister Hyde's remarkable ability. Tell me, Sherlock, what was it you dreamt of that scares you so?"

A bit of color came to his cheeks and he turned away. "I lost you over the falls, watched you plummet into the water even after I tried to save you."

"What a coincidence, I saw the same." I reached out to touch his shoulder, "Perhaps we should ask Doctor Maijabi of this, he seems the type to understand peculiar and distressing dreams."

Holmes smiled a little, "You are quite right, though I doubt many of the Lodgers should be awake, it's so early Missus Hudson hasn't even put on her tea yet."

"Then when the sun has risen a bit further, we shall go. But perhaps you ought to stay, to prevent further nightmares of course."

"Of course, John. Doctor's orders and whatnot."

Thankfully the rest of our morning was free of nightmares, the shared bed quite warm and cozy, Holmes’ back to mine a steady reminder that I had not lost him. When Mrs. Hudson came with breakfast, Holmes and I were quite well rested and ready to visit the Society once more. We ate, dressed, and hailed a cab to carry us to the large white building.

However when Holmes knocked upon doors, no one answered. Concerned, we pushed open the great door and found the Society in a greater deal of chaos than it usually was. The Lodgers ran here and there, shouting and calling for Mr. Griffin. Upon noticing us, one Mr. Archer ran to us and cried: "Thank God you are here! Griffin has gone missing!"

"And you're sure he hasn't left?" Holmes asked, raising a brow. 

"Dead certain, his clothes and possessions were left in his lab! We can hear his voice somewhere but can't find him!" Archer explained, seeming quite frantic.

"Calm yourself Mr. Archer, wherever he has gone, we shall find him."

"That's just it sir! We can hear him near the lab, muffled!"

"You mean to say he's still here somewhere?"

"Aye! But we can't find him in any of the secret passages! He must've fallen somewhere."

Holmes looked dumbstruck at the idea of secret passages. "Well there is no time to waste then! To his lab, I must examine the scene myself."

Archer led us up to the ghostly lab where, only recently, I'd taken my first steps on the Astral Plane. The room looked the same, with the exception of a large curtain hanging over a corner.

"Behind that is Griffin's latest prototype," Archer explained. "No one is to look behind it under any circumstances. But listen, you can hear Griffin nearby."

We all went silent, and sure enough, from nearby we could hear the muffled sounds of struggle, a chair creaking and an irritated voice grumbling. Holmes frowned and approached the curtain, despite Mr. Archer's protests, and drew the cloth back.

To our surprise, an empty chair sat before a large glass covered tube-machine. And what was more horrifying, was how the chair began to shake back and forth. Holmes looked to us, "Doctor Maijabi's spirits don't do this, now do they?"

"No sir. But-"

And Holmes reached out into midair, his palm coming to rest on a curved surface we could not see. The chair ceased to rattle. "Ah! Mr. Griffin, there you are. Please, allow me to untie your invisible gag."

With the invisible cloth gone, Mr. Griffin's disembodied voice coughed twice and shouted: "It's about time! I've been stuck here since dawn!"

"You told us not to look!" Archer said defensively.

"I would think my safety took priority over my work!" Griffin spat quite angrily as Holmes knelt behind. I watched his nimble hands feel over an invisible rope, coming across the knot that bound the scientist to his chair. With a few tugs, it seemed to come loose and the floorboards creaked. "Finally! Thank you Mr. Holmes."

"It's no trouble," Holmes mumbled, quite distracted by the invisible rope, wrapping it about his hand and such.

I stepped forward, "Are you quite well? In any pain?"

"Aside from hunger and a need to toilet, remarkably no."

"Who did this to you?"

Griffin huffed, "That's just it! I haven't the foggiest clue who forced me to use my machine on myself and tied me. I remember receiving a telegram last night, from who I can't recall, and after that it's all blank."

"You're certain you can't remember anything?" I watched in fascination as a small pair of glasses seemed to levitate from a nearby table and perch on an invisible face. Only then did I realize he must've been wearing no clothes and felt my face grow hot in embarrassment for him.

"Yes, I'm certain doctor," he finally said after a moment of thought. "The one thing I can recall is of no help."

"Tell us anyway," Holmes insisted, stashing the invisible rope in his coat pocket.

Again Griffin paused. "I remember... lights. For hours, these little lights. Three green and one red, in sequence."

"Sounds like they put you in a trance," Archer remarked, folding his arms.

"That would explain the memory loss," I added.

"Regardless, Mr. Griffin, go relieve and dress yourself. I will examine your lab for any sign of the intruder who had done this," Holmes said, nodding to our unseen companion. Griffin nodded in return, and as he left, Archer jogged after to spread the word he'd been found.

I felt my face heat again as I realized he’d marched off without even pausing to dress in at least trousers, though I thank God he was invisible and was spared the embarrassment.

As Holmes began to investigate the lab, Mr. Hyde joined us, leaning casually on the doorframe, though visibly favoring his shoulder which hadn’t been injured in our fight with Alec Cunningham. He raised a brow, “So, Griffin, completely invisible is he?”

“Completely,” I echoed, glancing at him and giving a short nod. “How is your shoulder? And Jekyll?”

“Well, the both of ’em. Except for the aching, but it’s healing. See Miss Ito has this remarkable solution Jekyll taught her for healing wounds! Fantastic stuff really.” He cracked a grin, “Oi do you think Griffin would let me use his invisibility device?”

“I thoroughly doubt it,” Holmes called, standing. “According to the only piece of non-encoded notes I have found, it’s not only incredibly painful but as of now, irreversible. And simply because you’re part Jekyll would he refuse.”

Hyde pouted like a petulant child and folded his arms delicately to avoid hurting his shoulder. Though, I noticed, when Holmes had mentioned the pain, he’d stiffened slightly and seemed quite frightened. I did not comment on this, and looked back to my friend’s investigation. He was kneeling, investigating the floor, presumably for a footprint or something similar.

“Say, Hyde, did you perhaps see anyone curious around the Society last night before Griffin disappeared?” he asked, glancing up at the shorter man. 

Hyde shrugged one shoulder, “Only some fancy pants Lanyon must have invited, I think. Didn’t get a good look at the guy, he just brushed out while I was passing by on my way out. Tell you what, it’s boring having to do Jekyll’s job for him, but it’s the only way Lanyon won’t turn me in for blackmail.”

Holmes frowned, “Well, it seems you witnessed our attacker without knowing it. Are you certain you do not remember anything?”

“Nothing at all, ‘cept that he had a bowler hat.” And then Hyde mimicked Holmes’ sour expression, “Actually, he looked more like someone you lot would hang ‘round, than one of Lanyon’s friends. Or Jekyll for that matter… Thanks, Henry.”

“It is still bizarre to me that you can speak to another man who is not at all present among us,” I remarked, standing straighter and noticing Holmes roll his eyes in an irritated manner.

He set Mr. Griffin’s notes aside, “In any case, someone with very old shoes was walking around in here for a very long time, he’s scuffed through Maijabi’s salt circle and left prints all over, short, heavyset, but he left nothing. And it doesn’t appear he took anything either, aside from a few hours of Mr. Griffin’s life and his appearance.”

“If the process was indeed painful, you’d think the Society would’ve heard Griffin in pain,” I said, gesturing towards the strange chamber at the back of the room.

“Unless the hypnosis was utterly complete,” Holmes hummed. “But alas, I don’t believe such a thing is possible, as the mind is a very powerful tool. Perhaps a weaker willed fellow could fall sway to it, but men like us would have a much harder time having our will stripped from us.”

“And yet Griffin was wiped like a slate,” Hyde hummed, clearly finding the idea amusing. “Wonder if they could teach me, it’d be fun.”

“Mr. Hyde, that’s awfully criminal of you, and cruel,” I said, hoping he’d catch my warning. But alas, he shrugged, unafraid, and left, for the situation had already begun to bore him. 

Holmes, however, was still quite intrigued with the whole thing, and sat himself inside Mr. Griffin’s inactive machine to survey the room. I sat myself upon a stool nearby and scanned the room as well. After a short while, Holmes stood, a deep frown on his features. “There is very little information here, and it is driving me mad.”

“Sherlock, you can’t always be expected to deduce a whole story from one room,” said I, standing and approaching him, putting a hand gently upon his shoulder.

He nodded slowly, folding his arms, “Were it not for the dire nature of the situation, I would agree.”

“And what makes it so dire?”

“What if someone makes themselves invisible? They should be a perfect thief.”

“Unless they can decipher my notes, they won’t be able to,” a voice from the door said.

We looked up to see Mr. Griffin in a vest and long sleeved shirt, gloves, a long trenchcoat hanging over his arm. But most remarkable about his appearance was the pair of dark goggles strapped to his face and the bandages he’d wrapped about his neck, perhaps to help suggest where his face was.

“Your notes are encoded, I did notice,” Holmes said, looking to our invisible client as he entered the lab, donning his coat.

“Additionally, I did not have enough of the bleaching formula for them to steal remaining,” he added, gesturing with a hand. “It is likely, though the thought causes me dread, that I am the only invisible man in England, if not the world.”

“And that is unfortunate,” Holmes hummed, looking him up and down. “Though, I suppose you will have time now to reverse the process, or at least begin the research.”

“Assuming I do not die from my own experiment,” Griffin spat, folding his arms in quite an angry way. “I hadn’t tested it yet on a human body, the color bleaching process could be eventually fatal.”

“Then let us hope it is not!” I said in an attempt to be optimistic, though it did not seem to help. So I tried again, “We shall find the man who hypnotized you, and bring him to justice. But in the meantime, you must let me know if you feel ill at all, perhaps I can help, or at least delay any fatalities.”

Griffin seemed taken aback, “You’d, do that for me?”

“I am a doctor, it is my duty.”

We were all forced to pause as a small voice in the doorway cleared their throat. Looking over, Miss Pidgley stood there, her hands folded politely behind her back. “I could not help but overhear, gentlemen, that some sort of... hypnosis... was involved?”

When we nodded, she offered a smile. “Well, you see, my erm, sister in law who lives in Soho recently sent me a telegram saying a stupendous sort of hypnotist had come to town and will be performing all week. Even if he is not the man you are looking for, perhaps he could explain what sort of technique was used on Mister Griffin? I’ve never heard of light hypnosis, after all.”

To my surprise, Holmes brightened, smiling quite excitedly. “Why Miss Pidgley, you are quite clever! Even if he is not a suspect, perhaps he knows someone who might understand what took place! Thank you madam!”

Miss Pidgley flushed pink and stammered out a “you’re welcome” as Holmes took me by the sleeve and pulled me along. He stopped atop the landing. “Ah, yes, where would we find this hypnotist Miss Pidgley?”

“I could show you!” Mr. Hyde chirped, appearing from behind her like an apparition.

Holmes was not amused, “Perhaps not, you are still injured.”

“Ah! But almost no one knows Soho better than the Spirit of London At Night himself!” he declared, puffing out his chest only to flinch and hold his injured arm. “But in all seriousness, I can take you, and I know lots of folks in the area, could be very helpful.”

“He has a point, Holmes,” I said, nudging my friend with my elbow quite gently. Sherlock Holmes sighed rather heavily and nodded, “Very well. As soon as you can, meet us downstairs, we should be there by this afternoon. With luck we shall catch him before he starts to perform.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy so many of you are excited for an IM crossover lol  
> Fingers crossed it doesn't disappoint!


	3. Dr. Paradol's Brainwashing Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to Soho leads to some... interesting encounters

The whole cab ride to Soho, Mr. Hyde regaled us with stories about the theater we were visiting. Particularly of the girls he’d often watch perform there on week-end nights, something I was moderately interested in while Holmes made no effort to disguise that he did not wish to discuss such a thing.

However when Hyde began to talk of the rumors he’d heard about this particular hypnotist, even pulling a flier from the many pockets in his rather rag-tag cloak, he perked up and began to listen.

“See, the posters showed up about a month ago at the theater, no one really thought much about them at first until the rumors started up. Couple guys I know mentioned they heard stories about him making a king stand on his head and dance like a fool! And in a less fancy setting, he made a sailor drop his pants in front of the crowd! The twist? Neither of them remembered a thing, nothing! So that’s why Miss Pidgley thought we ought to tell you fellows, since Griffin didn’t remember nothing about last night. If they’re using Dr. Paradol’s technique, well, he wouldn’t remember anything at all.”

“Now what sort of process could one even create using a few lights?” I asked rhetorically, folding my arms and leaning back.

Mr. Hyde shrugged, “No idea! Though the thing that all the men said and the posters said was that he had a brain-washing machine. They watched folks go in, and when they came out, they was entranced and obedient.”

“Obviously someone was inside that booth bribing those poor performers,” Holmes hummed in a matter-of-fact voice.

Hyde laughed, “That so? Doubt you could bribe a king much, and no man I’d know would go up on stage in front of his mates and show them his-”

The cab jerked to a stop and the cabby knocked. Holmes and I departed quickly, with Hyde jumping out behind, giggling quite childishly. 

We stood before a tall, run-down theater, one that had once clearly been the picture of opulence for the area, only to fall into disrepair as the folk who lived around did not have the money to pay for such fanciful and expensive shows. All the same, while the signs were rusted and some of the gas lamps broken, the interior was bright and inviting, with people filtering in with laughter and loud happy voices. The building was alive, despite how its outer appearance seemed.

Hyde ran forward to catch someone by the sleeve, giving the man an embrace as we approached, purchasing tickets and entering the theater. Wooden benches lined the room where I presume nicer chairs may have once been sat, and beaten curtains hung along the walls, old but well loved. A large, strange box sat up onstage, steam hissing out of a vent and the sound of a very small engine working away drifting across the room to us. We took our seats, waiting for the show to begin, Hyde quite excitedly moving in his seat.Holmes seemed irritated we hadn’t been able to arrive before the shows of the evening began, settling back into his chair to watch with a slight pout.

Before long, the lights in the theater began to dim and the crowd went quiet. The side doors of the box swung open and a man strode out to the cheers of the audience. At first I believed him to be tanned, but quickly it dawned on me that he seemed to be of Indian descent, dressed in a quite fanciful red suit with an equally glamorous tophat resting on his head. He gave a few bows before addressing us.

“Greetings, friends and newcomers!” he called, throwing his arms out wide, voice touched by an accent of the East. “I welcome you to our show tonight, where I will bend the most stubborn of minds to my will. Rest assured, whatever rumors you have heard, I will not do anything upon this stage that shall ruin thy image, on my word.” 

The crowd rippled with laughter and he smiled most warmly. “Though I suppose many of you care not for that, hehe. Well, let the show begin!”

The first act was a simple hypnotism, the traditional kind with a watch, making a young woman wander back and forth through the lanes of the theater and do a little twirl before snapping her out of it. 

The next had a man screaming in terror at the snap of a finger, nearly reduced to tears, and then to laughing! And then nothing, as if it’d never happened, with only the words from Paradol’s mouth.

But the third act was most curious, and where our answers lay about the fantastic box on the stage.

Dr. Paradol finished bowing as the confused gentleman exited the stage, holding his head. As he scanned the room for his next victim as it were, his eyes settled on Holmes, who lifted his face in slight challenge. Paradol smirked, “You there, in the fourth row, with the deerstalker—come forward, won’t you?”

Holmes scoffed quietly under his breath, abandoned his coat and hat, and marched up to the stage. I heard a few folks in the audience gasp softly, presumably recognizing my friend as he came into the light and shook hands with Dr. Paradol. “Welcome to the stage my friend, I presume your bold expression means you think you cannot be swayed by my methods.”

“Your methods are parlor tricks, Doctor,” Holmes said coolly.

Paradol frowned a bit, as if angry, but then smirked. “Perfect, you are just the candidate for the machine then.”

“Another trick.”

He pulled open the door and beckoned Holmes inside, “See for yourself, there is no trick.”

Holmes scoffed again and walked inside, sitting down as Paradol shut the door.

He later explained to me what transpired, that he heard Paradol pull some sort of lever and saw a window open. And he saw lights, a candle with lenses flickering in front of it, three green and a red, just as Mr. Griffin said. And while he gasped in surprise, beyond that, he found it hard to think, and even harder to look away from the lights.

After a moment or two, he would not remember at all what transpired following, the lights somehow causing his mind to empty of any thought.

Until Doctor Paradol opened the door and called him out.

We watched, shocked, as Sherlock Holmes stepped back out on stage with an empty look on his face. The alert glimmer of his eyes was gone, it looked as if he were sleepwalking, and almost immediately I felt a surge of protective energy towards my friend. Though Hyde grabbed my sleeve and urged me to watch, as Paradol had yet to hurt anyone upon that stage.

He said something quietly to Holmes, who immediately curtseyed and then put his arms out. To my uttermost surprise, he began to dance, and the audience cheered. It was a graceful, delicate dance, like that of a ballet dancer, but it only lasted a moment, as Paradol ordered him to freeze, and then to awake, leaving him tottering on the edge of the stage, unstable.

Paradol caught him by the arm and pulled him back, laughing quite heartily as the audience applauded my friend’s complete confusion. And with a wave, the intermission began.

I ran to the stage, “Holmes! Are you alright?”

He blinked at me and nodded, looking around in confusion. “How did I get back out here? I was sitting in the box and then, there were these lights that began to flash-”

“Putting you into a simple trance,” Paradol explained, patting him upon the shoulder. “Worry not my detective friend, I did not harm that precious mind of yours.”

“You recognized me, then,” he said, somewhat accusatory.

“Only after a moment of speaking with you, but yes I did. I can only assume you are here on business, for I did not think back-alley hypnotism was your sort of show, Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson.” He nodded at me with a smile, as if silently apologizing for embarrassing my friend.

“The lights are what triggered the trance then?” Holmes asked, offering me a hand up onto the stage.

Paradol nodded, “Indeed, it is an old technique from my mother’s home country. They are quite skilled with light in that region. Why do you ask?”

“An associate of ours was hurt while under the influence of such lights,” Holmes explained, dusting off his hands and straightening his clothes as I moved to stand beside him. “I don’t suppose you’ve had anyone ask you about your machine quite recently, have you?”

He thought for a moment, “Not especially recently, however I have journeyed much, and the technique is by no means my own, it would be quite easy for someone to extrapolate the process. But, the trance does not last long. It is only strong for a moment or two, a few simple commands or one more complex one. Though, I suppose if someone were to continue inducing the trance, it could result in more effective and longer lasting control.” He tapped his temple. “The human mind is powerful, as I’m sure you know.”

“So just, three green lights and a red one?” A voice asked. We looked down at Hyde who stood below on the ground looking up at us. “Asking for a friend, you must understand.”

“I... well, yes, when put crudely. But the timing must be exact, and that I am not going to tell you.” Paradol frowned, “The theater master warned me about you, Mr. Hyde.”

“Oh come on, I haven’t even done anything! This time.”

“We’ll get him out of your hair,” I promised the doctor, slowly getting back down from the stage. “Thank you for your help, doctor.”

“Of course gentlemen. But, if I may, who was the man who was hurt?”

“His name is, erm, Griffin.” I frowned, thinking hard, for I did not know his first name, though thankfully Hyde was able to assist me. “Jack Griffin, kind of tall, white hair, pale as hell, you know him?”

Paradol shook his head, looking quite concerned, “Never even heard of a fellow like that. I do hope you find whoever hurt him, I know from experience, hypnosis can be a very dangerous weapon. You gentlemen be careful, understand?”

We gave him a nod, though Hyde didn’t seem to take him seriously as we departed the theater.

“Well I think he’s certainly a suspect,” he declared on the pavement outside.

Holmes shook his head, smiling. “Certainly not. A man like that has no need for invisibility, he wants everyone to see him, the spotlight is all he wants.”

“So he’s a show-off, that doesn’t make him innocent.”

“You may be right, but it’s not a lead I’m going to pursue. We ought to ask Mr. Griffin about potential enemies and look into them instead, which is a large task ahead of us. Come gents, let’s see if we can find somewhere finer to dine for the evening.”

And yet, as we were walking to hail a cab, a great crashing came from an alley nearby and a man raced out, skidding on his heel. He looked around in a panic, spotted us, and ran over to grip me by the shoulders. “Doctor Watson, correct?”

“Yes, that is me! Now let go!” I demanded, pushing him back. He adjusted his dark goggles and looked between myself, Mr. Hyde, and Sherlock Holmes. 

“You’re both quite alive,” he muttered, seeming deep in thought behind those dark goggles. “How indeed… And Hyde as well, peculiar.” 

And before I could ask anything, he turned and ran off at such a quick pace that I lost sight of him in the crowd departing the theater. Holmes attempted to follow as well, but we quickly lost him among the pedestrians, rejoining a stunned Hyde at the curb.

“Well now!” I huffed in irritation, “Who on earth was that? Hyde did you recognize him?”

He opened his mouth to say something, paused, listened, and shook his head. “No, I thought he looked familiar, but Jekyll is right, I’m getting excited over nothing. Just some drunk nut-job probably, now come on, let’s go actually get food now, I’m starved!”


	4. A Mystery Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another stranger arrives at the Society

The walk back to the Society should have been ordinary, if it weren’t for the fact Hyde seemed to be quite energized by the appearance of the stranger. The restaurant we visited- a regular stop for Holmes and I- was rather suspicious of our noisy guest. We ate quickly and hurried back to the Society, both myself and my friend seeking to be rid of the excitable Mister Hyde for the evening.

Upon our arrival, we were once again greeted with an unusual sight. 

Doctor Lanyon seemed to be introducing an unfamiliar individual to a small crowd of confused Lodgers. When we approached, Mrs. Cantilupe leaned over and whispered: “Lanyon doesn’t usually bring in strays, this is odd behavior for him.”

“A new Lodger?” Hyde asked, mouth screwing up into a frown. “He didn’t even ask us about it.”

“Like you ever asked him,” Cantilupe hummed, looking towards the crowd.

“Mr. Marvel here has been explaining to me all the remarkable things you can do with light!” Lanyon was saying, sounding unusually chipper and excited. “He even suggests it could be used as some sort of pain therapy!”

The shorter man, Mr. Marvel, a stocky fellow with a balding head of hair and a ruddy face, who did not look at all like a mad scientist, nodded in a quite agreeable manner. He had small but striking blue eyes. “Indeed! My research at least seems to suggest such things, though I have much work to do.”

“Do you have much to bring?” someone asked, curious. “We’ll have to find you space for-”

“Oh no no no! You need not clear a laboratory for me, my experiments can be carried out in my own home.” The gathered Lodgers shared a few glances and whispers, because that was especially unusual. “In any case, I am very grateful to be among individuals who are more likely to assist me in my work and review it for error. I’m particularly interested in the man I hear is working on invisibility? It’s fascinating work!”

He continued to go on about his gratitude, but I found myself distracted by a certain invisible individual on an upper landing turning to flee into a hallway, followed closely by a friend. I glanced at Holmes, who seemed distracted, and stealthily made to follow them.

When I climbed the stairs, I could hear the distant sound of Griffin’s agitated voice, which became clearer as I approached.

“Griffin, you must calm down and explain again, I can’t understand you when you’re frantic like this!” Archer said insistently from around the corner.

“In that case I shall make it so plain that anyone could understand—that man down there was the one who turned me invisible!” Griffin snapped, stomping his foot in fury.

“But I thought you said you could not remember this?”

“I couldn’t! But upon seeing his face I vividly recalled a telegram I received last night, from him, demanding I give him a tour of my laboratory lest he reveal a deadly secret to the world!”

“Come now, do you really believe that man capable of something like that?”

“I… no, not so much. I knew him when we were both in college, and he was a coward of the most shameful type, deceptive and lying but… never violent. And certainly not capable or even knowledgeable of how to hypnotize someone. I was the physicist, Kemp the biologist, and Marvel was simply some gent we happened to run into and became acquainted with. Regardless, he knows something that I can’t let him expose.”

I heard Archer place a hand on Griffin’s shoulder, “Griffin, Jack, regardless of what this secret is, I have no doubt it is not so severe as your current condition! This would sooner have you jailed than whatever Marvel has to say.”

“Oh this is so comforting!” Griffin snapped, shoving him off. 

“I’m serious! Not only that, whatever he says, you can avoid simply by being invisible! You could escape anywhere! Hide here indefinitely even. And, now that he’s here, and you’ve begun to remember, Mr. Holmes will certainly take you seriously and try to find evidence that he is who you say he is.”

There was a long pause and Mr. Griffin sighed loudly. “I do hope you’re right… I’m going to avoid him though, tell him I’m sick or something. I’ll be in my room.”

“Will do, Jack.”

And I heard them depart, taking a sign to do it myself and hurry back downstairs.  
Holmes was waiting for me at the base of the staircase, watching Marvel make his acquaintance with the other Lodgers. I explained to him what I’d heard and he agreed, Marvel’s sudden appearance was strange and his behavior was out of character for a mad scientist.

“He’s far too ordinary,” he said to me quietly. “His hands suggest a desk job, a poor paying one according to his clothes, not a single burn or bit of grease or unusual dyes.”

“And if what Griffin says is true, he can somehow put people into a trance, or at least he has the knowledge to,” I added quietly, frowning. “Not only that, does Lanyon seem like he is acting... peculiar?”

“Yes, he’s far too agreeable with almost everything that Marvel is saying,” Holmes hummed. “I would speak to him, but I don’t know him well enough to really tell if something is unusual.”

We shared a look, then turned to Hyde, who was perched on a table nearby, pouting towards Mr. Marvel, who had rebuffed his attempts at playful and mischievous humor with sound and thoroughly boring logic. When he noticed us staring, he sat up and frowned. “What? What is that look for?”

“Could you speak with Lanyon? Try to ask him about Marvel?” Holmes asked in a serious and sort of fatherly voice. He knew that it was unlikely Hyde would do such a thing, but being Jekyll as well, he would recognize Lanyon being unusual sooner than anyone else.

Just as I assumed he would, Hyde scowled. “Yeah, right! That guy wants to toss me in prison, and the only reason he doesn’t is because I share a body with his best friend.”

“Please Mister Hyde, if you care at all for the Lodgers, do it for them. What if this Mister Marvel seeks to steal more secrets?”

“I say let ‘im take them! I don’t give a hoot about the Lodgers.” He folded his arms and pouted, only to wilt a bit, presumably under Jekyll’s harsh tone. Eventually he groaned, “Fine! I’ll talk to the busybody, try to see what’s got him so up and happy.”

“That’s the spirit,” Holmes said with a grin. “And while you do that, we shall chat with Mr. Marvel before he departs home, see if he remembers Griffin very well. Mr. Hyde, you seem uneasy.”

“Well I’ve never properly spoken with Lanyon,” he mumbled unhappily, looking over. “But you’re right, something is wrong, and I guess I’ll graciously give you my aid in figuring it out.”

“Thank you Mr. Hyde.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter and I ALMOST forgot to post haha  
> but hey! it's posted! huzzah


	5. In The Old Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holmes and Watson speak with the newcomer, and Hyde has a one-on-one talk with Lanyon.   
> Things get a little heated.

As the Lodgers began to disperse, bored with Marvel’s facts about light and annoyed with his disinterest in anyone else’s science, Holmes and I approached him. He was clearly familiar with our work, and greeted us with delight, shaking my hand enthusiastically.

“I’ve read almost all your cases in the Strand,” he exclaimed with a wide smile. “And most recently that you’ve begun consulting with the Society due to the rise of unnatural cases. Tell me, do you suppose that the Society could be behind them?”

“Certainly not,” Holmes said, almost sharply. “The scientists here work for the love of their craft, and none seek to harm the world, only discover it and its wonders. I find it curious that you would come into this facility carrying worries like that.”

“I don’t doubt that most of them are fine upstanding citizens,” Marvel said, waving a hand. “But I imagine some of them, that Mr. Hyde in particular, are capable of some incredible atrocities. Not to mention how many women are allowed to simply do as their whims please!”

Again, I saw anger flicker across Holmes’ features. “You best watch what you say, Mr. Marvel, I for one find their efforts admirable. They, at least, have proof of their work, while you have come here with nothing more than… old shoes and a pocket watch.” His brow furrowed slightly, looking down at Marvel’s shoes, “In fact… I’d wager you hardly step foot in laboratories at all.”

“Light hardly needs a laboratory,” Marvel said with impressive coolness. It seemed he wasn’t intimidated by Holmes in the slightest. “Merely some specialized lenses, lanterns, and chemicals.”

“Dangerous to keep around the house, don’t you think?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why are you so hesitant to bring it to the Society?”

Mr. Marvel scowled. “Well, perhaps it’s because I’m worried about nosey thieves like yourself stealing it from me.”

Holmes raised a calm hand, “Relax Mr. Marvel, Watson and I hardly have a need for specialized lights. We’re more interested in your acquaintance with one of the lodgers.”

“Oh? Who?”

“A mister Jack Griffin, do you know him?”

“Know him? Why, I went to school with him when I was a younger man. Well, not much younger, but I was rather a mentor figure for Jackie and his good friend. I forget the number of times I got them out of trouble, are you saying he works here?”

Holmes thought for a moment, “Yes, he does, however he is not well these days, and not seeking company. This friend of his, who might they be?”

“Doctor Kemp, he works down in Marylebone, small but skilled practice.”

“Ah! I recall Kemp,” I said with a grin, “He shall certainly see us when we explain what has happened.”

“And what has happened?” Marvel asked, raising a brow with interest.

“It is none of your concern Mr. Marvel,” Holmes said, gesturing dismissively. But again, Marvel grew angry, “It most certainly is my business, Griffin was a friend of mine! If something has happened to him, you must tell me!”

“That is between Mr. Griffin and ourselves,” Holmes answered, allowing his voice to get sharp. His eyes flickered down, watching as Marvel seemed to compulsively reach for his pocket watch. Slowly, both Marvel and my friend relaxed, though tension remained sharp between them. “That seems like a very elegant watch you have, Marvel.”

Clearly suspicious, Marvel pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open to show us the intricate clockwork face, but alas, it was still. A beautiful piece of craftsmanship, it bore a dark square in the topmost part of the face, where twelve would sit, and delicate carvings like swirls and spirals all over the casing. The chain itself appeared to be silver and hung, attached, into Marvel’s coat pocket. “Aye it is, a gift from my… father. Though it is long broken and no longer ticks. I cannot afford it to be repaired.”

He allowed Holmes to take the watch and examine it. “Well, there are a number of clockwork experts here, perhaps you ought to show them. They might be able to fix it.” 

He reached up to turn the key atop the watch only for Marvel to reach out and snatch the watch from him. “I very much doubt it! They’re more likely to break it worse, just as you are!”

Holmes looked startled by this outburst, and slowly put his hands into his pockets. “Very well, perhaps we shall see you around the Society then. Come Watson, we have doctors to speak with.”

A subtle nod from him and we left Marvel to his devices, clearly irritated with Holmes’ asking and prodding.

We walked onwards towards the Marylebone district, Holmes’ head sunk on his breast in thought, while I watched the street lamps be lit around us as the evening finally began to grow dark.

“Sherlock,” said I as we strolled along, “It will be too late to see Kemp this evening, but we must ask him in the morning if Marvel is at all worth trusting.”

“He is keeping too many secrets for my liking,” Holmes hummed, looking up at me. “But you are right, let us return to Baker street, and in the morning we shall call on Kemp. I can only hope Mr. Hyde is having more luck with his Doctor Lanyon than we are.”

Luckily for all of us, he was.

The event that follows is as Doctor Jekyll later recalled it to me. Hyde spent a number of minutes, after Holmes’ suggestion that he should speak to Lanyon, wandering about the Society aimlessly, clearly trying to avoid the matter at all costs.

From the reflection in a clock face, for Jekyll explained to me that he and Hyde often manifested in the other’s vision as a reflection or shadowed figure, Jekyll watched him with mild irritation.

“Edward you must stop delaying,” he said sharply, “If Robert returns home you shall never be able to speak to him, and we must not waste time finding out what’s so interesting about this Marvel fellow that Lanyon insisted on bringing him to the Society.”

“Why is this my business at all?” Hyde asked, turning to Jekyll’s reflection and putting his hands on his hips. “Helping that detective has only gotten me stabbed, I hate Lanyon with a passion, and  _ furthermore, _ I don’t really care about Marvel or Griffin. They’re just another weird thing happening in the Society keeping me from my nightly fun.”

“You don’t really hate Lanyon,” Jekyll said with a pout. “You’re just frightened of talking to him for some reason, you think he’s going to stuff you in a suit and make you talk politely to our associates.”

Hyde stiffened with anger, “I am certainly not afraid of that stuck-up busybody! He is everything I hate about us, rules and manners and fitted suits, and ‘oh look at miss parsnip her hair is so lovely this evening.’ What a bunch of shallow nonsense! I’d much rather punch him than shake hands or even speak with him.”

“Then I suppose you’re alright with the possibility that Mr. Marvel is actually a threat who would hurt the Lodgers? Better yet, I suppose you’re alright with him causing more cases like our near-death because you don’t want to talk to Lanyon?”

“Don’t discuss morals with me Doctor, which of us tried to rid himself of his damnable nature only to create the most evil man in London?”

“You’re hardly the most evil anymore, Edward, for you’ve yet to replace someone’s heart with clockwork or poison a man so he turns into anatomical sludge. This is not a matter of Lanyon and upright society, this is a matter of people you call your friends being threatened and stolen from.”

“They’re not my friends.”

“Liar.”

“Big surprise that is, me, a liar. Look at yourself!”

“Edward, you always talk about how you can see inside my head, and then promptly forget that I can do the same for you.” The hallucination of Henry Jekyll pushed out of the reflection so he could stand before Hyde, arms folded in stern scolding. “You care about the Lodgers, they’re the only genuine friendships you have in this world, even if you deny it with everything you have. If you refuse to speak to Lanyon because of status nonsense, then speak with him for their sake, unless you want more of them to end up like Mr. Griffin, victims of their own experiments aimed by an enemy hand.”

Hyde’s eyes narrowed into a glare, though he visibly had wilted as Jekyll spoke. He did not protest, because Jekyll was right about this. Alone in the world, the Society was the closest place Hyde had to somewhere he really and truly fit in among peers, to watch it be crumbled by menacing outsiders was something even he, in all his evilness, could not abide by.

So with a growl, he finally agreed to speak with Doctor Lanyon, and set off to find him.

After a bit of searching and asking, he found Lanyon in Jekyll’s office and laboratory, sifting through papers. Without ceremony, Hyde strolled over and plucked them from Lanyon’s hands, “What’s this, then? More bills to pay?”

“Bills must be paid every month, Edward,” Lanyon said in a low, frustrated tone, “though of course I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand that.”

“Oh I understand perfectly well, I just hate it,” Hyde said, nonchalantly tossing the papers upon the desk, which he then hopped up on, flinching only slightly at the strain upon his shoulder. “So, Holmes and Jekyll and all those types have been insisting I speak with you about something that’s supposed to be kind of important.”

“Get on with it then, I doubt you like this any more than I do.” Lanyon folded his arms and regarded Hyde with a cold look, one that Jekyll would later note as unnatural and slightly unfocused.

“Mostly they wanted me to ask about why the hell you brought some desk clerk who’s clearly never done science in his life to the Society. I mean, have you looked at this fellow? He’d sooner be at one of your father’s parties than in a laboratory.” That last phrase was said with a bit of biting malice, as Lanyon’s relationship with his father was only less than friendly.

Indeed it succeeded in giving rise to anger from Lanyon, who stepped closer to jab his chest. “What I do to support this Society is none of your business, Hyde.”

“Oh but it’s Jekyll’s business,” Hyde interrupted, “And unless you want us ripping our shoulder clean in two, I guess you’d better tell me if you want him to know why you’ve brought in a stranger during an investigation.”

He hopped off the desk, pushing into Lanyon’s space and making him step back, “I mean, what were you thinking Robert? Mr. Griffin gets seriously injured and you let some man waltz in here and make a space for himself? Especially after all the attacks and weird crimes? Henry’s disappointed, he expected you to take a little more caution with this whole deal.”

“Oh as if you and he didn’t bring in the Lodgers like lost stray puppies,” Lanyon snapped, shoving Hyde back a bit. “Some poor scientist gave you a sad frown and you brought them in time, and time, again. Don’t talk to me about bringing in strangers.”

Hyde rolled his eyes most dramatically, “This isn’t about bringing in strays, simply about how your timing is so positively abysmal as to put the Lodgers in danger. To put us in danger as well! What did Mister Marvel say that was so remarkable you threw precaution and decorum to the wind hm? Well? I’m waiting.”

He watched as Lanyon fought for an answer, an excuse of some sort, even witnessing his brow furrow in frustration and confusion as he could not remember. “I, oh, I was simply thinking it would suit our image to have someone similar to the common man as a member of our eccentric cast, someone that citizens of London could relate to in the chaos.”

“You don’t remember, do you?” Hyde said, both teasing and intrigued. “You’ve forgotten everything he told you because it was so bloody boring.”

“Certainly not!” Lanyon snapped. “I remember that he told me-” and here Lanyon’s voice took on an odd cadence, similar to a gramophone repeating a sound- “the fascinating properties of light and its potential in both healing and destructive capabilities. It can even be used to make the most wonderful illusions.”

“Yes but can you actually repeat anything he told you?” Hyde asked at Jekyll’s suggestion.

Again Lanyon grew frustrated, and repeated the phrase again. “Light has many fascinating properties and can be used to both heal and destroy. It can even be used to make the most wonderful illusions. Confound it, why can’t I recall anything he said?”

Hyde thought for a moment, as did Jekyll, and both of them came to the same conclusion. “This evening, we watched a hypnotist use a machine with lights make Mr. Holmes dance about on stage without remembering a single thing. Likewise, someone used a similar method on Mister Griffin and made him forget he turned himself invisible! It’s possible, Lanyon, that you’re the victim of Mister Marvel’s hypnotic skills.”

The doctor’s expression fell and his eyes seemed to clear slightly. “But… how would he have done such a thing? And why?”

“Well at the show it was just a matter of a particular sequence of lights, obviously he used it to imply he’d told you about some fantastic rogue science, utterly making a fool of you and making you bring him into our door,” Hyde said in a tone of mockery.

“Now see here Edward, the way we met was completely ordinary and I very much doubt he had time to hypnotize me and convince me of such things. We ran into one another at the hospital, and he recognized me. So we talked for a while and…” Lanyon trailed off, his brow furrowing as he again encountered gaps in his memory. “Why, I can't recall… but you must admit he hardly seems capable of something so dastardly.”

“Did you ever think our dear Henry was capable of something dastardly?”

This successfully struck Lanyon quiet.

“That’s what I assumed. Every man and woman in this city has evil within them, you can’t let your own thin and shallow niceties fool you. Why, I’m sure if you took a sip of our special drink you’d be just as low as the rest of us, only a little more honest.”

When he did not answer, Hyde smiled smugly, convinced he’d won, shrugged once and began to take his leave. At the door, however, Lanyon spoke again, to Jekyll this time.

“Why did you not tell me? About the potion?” he asked quietly, voice full of hurt. “I thought we were close enough that you would share something like that with me, I suppose I was wrong.”

“I wouldn’t have told you in a million years,” Hyde said, turning to look at him. “But Henry’s excuse is that you wouldn’t have believed us, that you would’ve cast us out of your life completely. Now  _ that _ , that would’ve broken him completely, I think, as you’re so important to him.”

“I am?”

“Yes I suppose, it always pained him greatly to see you suspicious of us, though I guess that’s just your nature, to get rid of everything that doesn’t fit in the little box you’ve made for your life.” He turned again to move out of the door, “So, before you go accusing us of lying—which we did—take a moment and reflect on how you yourself would’ve done the same. Just a moment’s thought about how everything would’ve changed had we told you willingly, and another thought about how our forced reveal has told you everything anyway. Things have changed, Lanyon, understand that.”

And Hyde left the office, leaving the stunned Lanyon, and Jekyll, to think about what he’d said.


	6. Strangers and Strange Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holmes and Watson talk to Doctor Kemp and encounter a stranger, while Hyde and Lanyon confront Marvel

Early in the morning, Holmes and I set out into London, hoping to catch Doctor Kemp before he began to take clients. Admittedly I was not at my greatest, for another nightmare of falling had left me in a shaken state during the wee hours of the morning, and it seemed as if Holmes felt similar. However, he would not let it show, as he was in the thick of a case, focused only on his goal and his questions ahead.

In times like these I always grew concerned for his health, as it would be quite easy for him to work himself into a fatal nervous or wasted state. He often chastised me for nannying him, but in my defense, my concerns were rationally founded in his terrible habits.

But regardless, we reached Kemp’s practice just before nine in the morning, and found the doctor tidying his office within. Kemp was a tidy gentleman with a strong face and a slim, clean moustache, and when I introduced my friend and I, he greeted me with the warmth of a fellow practitioner. 

“Tell me then, what can a humble doctor do for such men as yourselves,” he said with a warm smile, a hand on his hip and another holding his lapel.

“We’ve actually come to ask you a few questions concerning friends of yours during university,” Holmes explained casually, gesturing with his hands. “Particularly those of Marvel and Griffin, ring any bells?”

“Griffin? Why certainly! He was a close friend of mine, won an award for chemistry before disappearing.” Kemp touched his moustache in thought, “I have not heard of him in many years, though I always did mean to contact him. As for Marvel, well, he was more an acquaintance than anything, nothing much.”

“He seemed convinced you were much closer.”

I saw worry flicker across Kemp’s face. “Ah well, you know how some people act when they think they know you.” With quite a nervous chuckle, he put his hands into his pockets, noticeably avoiding Holmes’ steady gaze.

Holmes tilted his head slightly, “And what if I were to tell you that it’s possible Marvel was responsible for hurting Griffin so severely he may never recover?”

The color fled quickly from Kemp’s face as his eyes returned to us. “What on earth do you mean? What has Griffin been up to? What has Marvel done?”

“Relax doctor, both are well for the most part. Griffin has been dabbling in what he calls disapparative biochemistry, or more simply, turning living creatures invisible. Unfortunately someone decided, in an attempt to steal his methods, to turn him invisible against his will. Equally unfortunate, but I do believe that Marvel is the most likely suspect, though I don’t know why he would be doing such a thing.”

“Marvel was always irresponsible with his funds, he could be strapped for cash, although the Marvel I knew would be more likely to gamble than to, to, to become a mercenary type.”

“Regardless of whether or not it was indeed Mr. Marvel, someone had blackmail on Griffin that convinced him to allow them into his lab for a prolonged time, alone. Do you know of any such thing that could have happened during University to strike such fear into Griffin?”

Kemp swallowed hard, looking at me. “If I tell you, you must swear that word of this never leaves this room and is certainly never posted to the public.”

“You have my word, these cases will never leave my lockbox,” I promised, offering my hand to seal the pact. With a nod, he shook and beckoned us into a back room, lest a client enter while we were speaking.

Once behind a locked door, Kemp let out an uneasy breath and began to explain.

“I lied, though only slightly. Griffin and I were...  _ quite _ close during University, closer than two men ought to be in the eyes of our government. I—Lord, this is embarrassing to  _ think _ about, let alone discuss, but one evening Griffin and I were sharing an intimate moment when Marvel stumbled upon us. We begged for his secrecy, which he promised to keep, but it would certainly frighten Griffin if that secret were betrayed. Though, if he were desperate for money, surely I would have been a better target than a, a-a mad scientist!”

“Rogue scientist,” I corrected softly, feeling defensive for our new friends at The Society.

Kemp nodded, “Regardless, I can’t see what Marvel could get from Griffin if he is indeed a… rogue scientist. Certainly not money.”

“But instead his study,” Holmes hummed, rubbing his chin. He blinked and paled, “Wait, but that means- Watson, hurry! We must get back to the Society! Before someone is put in further danger!”

Before I could protest, he was running for the door. I gave Kemp my thanks before chasing after, wondering what he could have realized that was so alarming.

As I caught up to him, he was flagging down a cab to drive us back to the Society. “Holmes what on earth has gotten into you?”

“I’ll explain once we are certain Griffin is safe, but so long as we are away, anyone at the Society is in danger of being robbed by our hypnotic friend,” he said with a stern determination. “We must fetch Doctor Lanyon too, before-”

He was cut off by a stranger barrelling into him and gripping his shoulders. The same stranger from the night of the show! Holmes tried to struggle free as the man looked him up and down from behind dark goggles. He let go and backed up, looking me up and down. “This is impossible, it’s strange and wrong and weird! You, Doctor Watson, what do you remember of Reichenbach?”

He spoke with an intensity I couldn’t ignore, so I answered that I remembered leaving Holmes at the falls and returning to the inn, only to realize my folly and return. The stranger looked to Holmes, frowning deeply. “I think I’ve made a mistake… no no not my mistake, someone else’s.”

And before either of us could protest, he was running again, and our cab had arrived.

“Holmes what was-”

“We can worry about that later, right now, the Lodgers are in danger, and Lanyon as well perhaps. We must hurry.”

“But Sherlock, he-”

“Later!”

And once again I am forced to change my point of view in our narrative to that of Doctor Jekyll from within Hyde’s mind.

Hyde had spent the night at the Society, he was currently forced to do as Doctor Jekyll could not return to their home. Due to his not entirely normal state of being, Hyde had difficulty falling asleep without the transformation attempting to revert and further damaging his shoulder, thus he was only able to sleep for short amounts of time. This resulted in a very grumpy and tired Hyde lingering in the dining hall of the Society over a meager breakfast and tea, though Jekyll assured me that after a short while he returned to his normal energetic state.

As he was recovering, someone approached him. “Mister Hyde? Er, Edward?”

Looking up, Hyde found himself surprised to see Doctor Lanyon standing there. “Robert? What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk. And you look quite terrible. Well, more terrible than you usually appear, anyhow.” He sat in a chair beside Hyde, placing his hat on the table.

Hyde echoed what he’d said in a mocking tone before returning to his position sitting face-down on the table. Lanyon gave a pout, “I, well, I’ve been doing some thinking. You were right.”

“I was?” Hyde said, sitting up in shock.

“He was?” Jekyll’s hallucination repeated, equally in surprise.

Lanyon nodded, “Yes, you were. Everyone is playing the same game I am, to make themselves look the best, they act so posh and wonderful and kind even though they could be anything but. And I fell for Marvel’s game without even thinking about it… And, you’re right, I would’ve abandoned you if you’d told me about the potion sooner. I never wanted to think of you, of Henry, as a mad scientist like Frankenstein or something, and by doing so, I must’ve driven you to this in some way. So, I’m sorry.”

Hyde blinked, eyes wide in surprise and mouth hanging open slightly.

“I think I’m going to cry a bit,” Jekyll admitted in their mind.

“You. I. I’m going to be honest with you Lanyon, both Henry and I have always fantasized about you saying something like that,” Hyde admitted, still stunned. 

“Yes well, I’ve had a lot to think about, because things have changed.” Lanyon offered his hand, “So, a truce. So long as the Lodgers are in danger, you and I find some way to work together.”

“I think that sounds like not the most terrible idea you’ve had,” Hyde said, clapping their hands together with the force of his handshake. “Now, let’s go find Marvel and get some answers.”

“You really suspect him of being dangerous?” Lanyon asked, grimacing as Hyde stuffed his face with the rest of his breakfast. He took a moment to swallow and nodded, “He’s way too friendly and nice for this kind of place.”

A knock on the doorframe made them both turn, Mr. Archer stood there. “Um, gentlemen? Could I have some assistance? I think Griffin has locked himself in his lab…”

“I’ll help if you can answer me this- have you seen Marvel today?”

“Oh that strange fellow? I think I saw him this morning…”

“Perfect! Come Lanyon, let’s see what’s up with the invisible man this day.”

The duo made their way up to the lab and Hyde was about to knock when they heard a shout from within. Lanyon motioned for him to be quiet and they leaned in to listen to what might be going on beyond the door.

“Come now Griffin, you must-”

“I will not be calm! You have come into my home, into my laboratory, and demanded from me what I already gave you! What you took from me by force!”

A moment’s quiet, “Ah, you remember now.”  
“It only took seeing your foolish face for me to start remembering. Though I don’t know how you convinced me to make myself invisible, I recall how you tied me there and left me to die.”

“Not to die Griffin, I knew someone would find you.”

“So why have you come back then, Marvel? I have nothing left to give you! You took my notes, you witnessed my method, what else is there that you could possibly demand of me? Money? Ask Kemp! He’s a doctor, for God’s sake.”

“It’s precisely for that reason I need your methods, someone powerful-”

“Can come to me and pay me themselves! Not steal it from beneath my nose with some foolish halfwit.”

“Griffin-”

“Enough. Out of my lab with you, Marvel.”

They heard the man sigh, “Oh Griffin, I did want to solve this amicably.”

Hyde, before he could be stopped, slammed open the door despite the lock and grinned triumphantly. “Hold it right there Marvel!”

Marvel spun, holding the pocket watch in his hand, and Griffin jumped in surprise, glasses glinting in the light through the door.

“I knew you were behind the hypnosis!” Hyde declared, pointing at him. “And you thought you would be able to get away with the foul actions beneath our roof eh? How dare you!”  
“This is not your business Mr. Hyde, I suggest you leave before you regret your decision to burst in on other men’s discussion,” Marvel said darkly, winding his watch. “Luckily, I’m not alone in this venture. Lanyon, don’t you recall the discussion we had about saffron?”

Lanyon stood up straighter, brow furrowing but eyes going glassy. “I do, Mister Marvel.”

“Show Mr. Hyde out,” he said in a dark voice.

Hyde frowned deeply and opened his mouth to protest when Lanyon grabbed him roughly by his injured shoulder and clapped a hand around his mouth with unusual force, pulling him back. Griffin gave a shout and moved to stop him when Marvel turned and lifted the watch, snapping open the face and revealing flashing lights. The scientist swore and turned away, covering his eyes, or attempting to.

He was invisible after all, and could still see the flashing from the watch through his transparent hands and forearm.

“Close the door, doctor,” Marvel said darkly, stepping closer to Griffin. 

“Yes sir,” Lanyon said, pushing Hyde in and shutting the door with his foot. Hyde struggled against the doctor’s grip, using his free arm to elbow and punch, biting into his hand, but Lanyon didn’t budge, didn’t even react as Hyde’s teeth broke the skin on his hand. All he did was grip down harder, forcing Hyde’s jaw still and his mouth shut.

Marvel turned his attention to Griffin, “You’re going to stand there until I’m done with Hyde, understood?”

Griffin nodded numbly, his glasses bobbing in air.

“Good man.” Marvel turned to Hyde, slowly winding his watch up once more. “You, blonde, bratty fellow, you should already be dead. The last man didn’t quite finish the job, so I will.”

Hyde protested, swearing as best he could through the hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the lights. 

“Perhaps I’ll have you throw yourself off the building, or drink so much of your poisonous concoction you turn into sludge,” Marvel growled, walking closer and prying Hyde’s eyelid open. The watch clicked open, and Hyde could hear it clicking as he struggled.

And then the door opened once again and Mr. Archer gasped in horror. “Marvel, what on earth are you doing to them?”

Marvel swore and closed the watch, “You!”

But Archer’s voice seemed to snap Griffin from his trance and with a roar he charged and tackled Marvel with his full invisible force, knocking the shorter, heavier man to the floor. The watch went flying from his hand and Archer moved to grab it, snatching it from the air.

“Smash it!” Griffin ordered, “Before he can get it back!”

Archer nodded almost frantically and threw it to the ground, smashing the delicate metal and sending cogs and fluid flying. 

“No!” Marvel cried in protest. He looked to Doctor Lanyon, “Don’t just stand there, do something!”

But alas, when Lanyon let go of Hyde, moving to grapple Archer instead, Hyde gave a howl and leapt onto his back. The doctor shouted, trying to pry him off, but he and Archer were easily able to pin him and, with a solid slap across the cheek, snap him out of his trance. 

Marvel cursed and swore, shoving Griffin off and running further into the lab. Growling, the invisible man gave chase, more furious than an enraged bull, grabbing a toppled chair with one hand and clearly fully intending to hurt Marvel for what he’d done.

Lanyon blinked a few times, startled. “Wha- what’s going on? Hyde what-”

“Nevermind that, we must catch Marvel before he can leave the lab!” Hyde said, jumping to his feet and looking back into the room.

Archer helped Lanyon to his feet, but as they were looking up, they saw Marvel ducking into Griffin’s invisibility machine and pulling the heavy door shut behind himself as a protective measure. Griffin slammed a hand against the glass window, “Marvel you coward! Come out here and face me!”

“Absolutely not! And you wouldn’t dare to break your precious machine to hurt me!” he snapped back with a scowl, holding the door shut.

A change came over Griffin, one that could not be seen on his invisible face, but in his posture as he straightened, pulling back his shoulders. “You’re right. However, you are inside my machine.”

“So? I haven’t drunk your formula, I’m not an albino freak, you can’t steal my visibility!” Marvel declared triumphantly. 

“You are still inside my machine,” Griffin said darkly, stepping back and reaching over to grip a large lever upon the side of his creation. “I’ve never tried the process on a creature that hadn’t taken the blood bleaching formula. I’ve never tried the process for a long period of time, either. Thank you for volunteering, Marvel.”

The color drained from the man’s face as he shouted in protest, but Griffin had already thrown the switch. Chemicals mixed in a vat at the back of the device, causing electricity to spark as heavy bars sunk into the door, sealing it shut. Griffin backed up further as wheels began to creak at the top of the chamber, beginning to spin two large, curved metallic rods about the chamber in which Marvel was trapped, screaming and cursing in protest.

“Griffin deactivate it!” Lanyon cried over the growing noise as the rods began to spin faster and faster. He grabbed Griffin by the arm and was shoved back, “No! I will have this! He has damned me to this and I will see him suffer for it!”

A strange warbling sound began to come from the machine and within, Marvel began to twitch and seize, sinking out of view. An electric charge filled the air and made the hair stand on end, sending shudders down the spine. Hyde grinned and clapped his hands, despite the thrilling terror the machine thrust into his heart, “Griffin you madman! Oh this is fascinating! I can’t imagine what’s going to happen!”

“I’d wager he’s going to burn,” Archer said, staring at Griffin in horror and sorrow. “And, I can’t believe you’re allowing this to happen, Griffin.”

His tone of hurt, which seemed so loud over the whirring of the machine, gave Griffin pause. Even as Lanyon began to move towards the device, intent on disconnecting it, Griffin was staring at Mr. Archer.

Eventually, he sighed, reached over, and pulled a single cable from the control panel. The hum dropped and the whirring rods began to slow rapidly, the electric warbling fading from the air. Lanyon raced forward as soon as the machine had stilled and the door unlocked, tearing it open and dragging the half conscious and slightly smoking Marvel from the inner chamber, which felt full of heat. He checked the man’s pulse and breathed a slow, tired sigh of relief. 

“He’s alive… Though, I don’t doubt your machine would have cooked him alive, Griffin,” Lanyon said, looking at him darkly. “You would have killed him.”

Griffin’s invisible expression was unreadable, though his shoulders drooped and he hung his head. “I don’t know what came over me, I was enraged by the control he’d wielded over me, I… lost myself.”

“But you didn’t leave him to die, I knew you wouldn’t,” Archer said, putting a hand onto Mr. Griffin’s shoulder, smiling somberly. “Besides, now that he is alive, we can find out why he’s doing this, and bring him to justice!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If i don't finish this next saturday you all have permission to harass me in the comments and remind me


	7. Double Blind Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are asked, but those only lead to MORE questions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning for a moment of gore and body horror at the very end

By the time Holmes and I had arrived, Marvel had been tied to a chair and was rousing slowly. Lanyon sat nearby, holding a cool cloth to his face where Hyde had slapped him. Some of the Lodgers had gathered outside of the lab and were whispering amongst themselves as we pushed through the crowd.

“What happened? Is everyone alright?” I asked as Holmes rushed into the laboratory.

“Mr. Marvel tried to hypnotize Griffin and almost got Mr. Hyde as well!” Miss Lavender explained to me as we looked inside. 

“And apparently he had some sort of hypnotic trigger to control doctor Lanyon!” Mr. Sinnett added in a nervous tone of voice.

“Exactly as I’d worried,” Holmes said with a frustrated sigh. “I am sorry we could not have come sooner to warn you, we were across town speaking with Doctor Kemp.”

“You spoke with Kemp?” Griffin asked in a panicked voice, standing abruptly and almost knocking Mr. Archer over.

“Relax, Mr. Griffin, it was only to find out what Mr. Marvel was holding over you, and what possible motive he could have for doing this. But I think I know what it is, in fact.” He looked to Mr. Marvel who was glaring from his chair. “Shut the door, won’t you Watson? We must have a little chat.”

Obediently, I moved over, shooing the Lodgers out and shutting the door, locking it soundly.

“All of us were fairly certain quite quickly that Marvel isn’t a scientist like most of the other Lodgers, and Doctor Kemp confirmed he never studied. The blackmail he had on Griffin applied to Doctor Kemp as well, however, had Marvel actually sought to gain financially via extortion, he would have gone for the well established doctor as opposed to the Rogue Scientist harbored in the Society.”

“Oi, we aren’t  _ that _ broke!” Lanyon protested with a pout.

“Regardless, it became clear it wasn’t money he was after,” Holmes said. “Then again, had he gotten what he wanted the first time he stole from Mr. Griffin, he wouldn’t have returned.”

“His notes are encoded,” Marvel said irritably. “I came to make him translate them for my employer.”

“If you’d paid attention the entire time I was turning myself invisible, maybe you’d know what you stole!” Griffin snapped, moving towards Marvel, hands balled into fists. Holmes held out an arm to stop him, “And now, he’s going to tell us where he took the information, where he’s hidden your notes. Or I may be more inclined to let you have your way with him.”

“They’re in my briefcase, I couldn’t leave it where my hapless maid might find them,” Marvel said irritably, flinching when Griffin so much as raised his hand.

“I’ll fetch it from the lobby,” Lanyon said, standing, holding the cloth to his cheek.

“Not quite Doctor, I have a question you may want the answer to. Why hypnotize Doctor Lanyon? Surely you could have negotiated your way in,” Holmes said, looking thoughtfully to Marvel. 

He opened his mouth to say something, when a remarkable change came over his features. They softened from those of a hardened, furious criminal, to the bewildered and confused face of a man who likely spent his weekends walking about and grooming his moustache. For a moment, he stammered, looking between all of those gathered about, before exclaiming in a panic: “What on earth is going on here?”

Holmes and Griffin shared a puzzled look, then back to Marvel. “What do you mean? You’re restrained after attacking Mr. Griffin and Mr. Hyde? I asked you why you used your device to hypnotize Doctor Lanyon.”

“Hypnosis? Griffin? Gr- Wait Griffin, are you  _ invisible _ ? Good Lord man what is going on?”

“Don’t play dumb you overgrown leech!” Griffin snapped, grabbing Marvel by the lapels. “This is your fault! Give us some answers already!”

“Griffin, by God, it is you! And you say this is all my fault? It can’t be! I was just at my house and-”

“Stop lying before I smack some sense into you!”

“Mister Griffin,” Holmes said sternly, taking his shoulder and pulling him back. “Take a closer look at Marvel, look at his eyes, they’ve changed color from blue to brown.”

“My eyes changing color?” Marvel repeated, shocked. “Why on earth would they do that?”

“In my time here at the Society for Arcane Sciences, I’ve seen a prime example of eye color being connected to state of being,” Holmes explained, glancing at Hyde. “If, for example, you were under some sort of powerful chemical trance, a different color may have been a side effect.”

“You mean to say someone hypnotized him into doing all of this?” Griffin asked, shoving Holmes’ hand from his shoulder.

“Would it be so out of the question? Someone requested Jekyll to be poisoned, and someone else gave Cunningham the knowledge to replace human organs with clockwork,” Holmes answered darkly. “It’s clear, someone or some organization is working to use Rogue Science to its own aim, and that means stealing it from those like you and Jekyll. I don’t doubt that they have no qualms using ordinary folks like Marvel to their devious aims.”

“What do we do about it then? How can we keep our science safe?” Archer asked, stepping forward.

“Lanyon, Hyde, I think you ought to consider closing the doors except to those who are truly desperate,” Holmes said, a somber note in his voice. “While I do believe that bringing Rogue Science into the world has benefits, you can’t deny the dangers of it all.”

“Which is why the Society is so important,” Lanyon said, standing. He looked to Hyde, “At least, that’s what Jekyll would say. We can prove the benefits of all this in a world of people who would use it to kill, and shouldn’t we do that?”

Holmes nodded, “Indeed. Mr. Marvel, I imagine Doctor Lanyon would want to make sure you are well before we send you home, lest whoever assaulted you tries again.”

“Of course!” Marvel said, wiggling in his ropes. “Anything to try and help after all I’ve done.”

Hyde groaned loudly, making everyone stare. “And, my friend suggests I offer you payment in exchange for your silence on this whole matter.”

“Certainly! I want NOTHING to do with this,” he said in a cheerful voice.

“The feeling is rather mutual I think,” I mumbled, closing my notebook.

After an examination from Lanyon, and a few experimental hypnotic gestures from Dr. Maijai, we were all fairly sure that Marvel both remembered nothing and was no longer affected by whoever had charmed him in such a way. A payment from Hyde, in Jekyll’s name, was enough to keep him silent.

When I spoke to Griffin about his past, he very snappily refused to explain what had happened between him and Kemp in any more detail than Kemp had, which was understandable.

Lanyon brought together the Lodgers and they had a lengthy discussion and a vote about what was to be done about potential newcomers and the thievery of their studies. When we next visited, they had agreed that perhaps it was time to work towards a more positive public name, so they wouldn’t be the first suspects every time there was an unusual death. How they did that would be figured out another day. 

When Holmes and I finally returned home, I got the distinct feeling that Holmes was beginning to slip into a dark mood. So, when we were seated before our roaring fire, I asked him what was wrong.

“I was too late John,” he explained to me, leaning back in his chair. “Were it not for Mr. Archer, we would have lost Hyde, Jekyll, Griffin, and possibly Lanyon today. Griffin is still irreparably invisible, and someone very dangerous is out there hurting innocent individuals.”

“Do you suspect it to be one of Moriarty’s men?”

“It cannot be. Almost all of them are in prison, he himself is dead, and I haven’t heard so much of a tremor from the criminal underworld. Though, as we’ve seen, I’m not impervious from missing the obvious.”

“You did not want to jump to conclusions, you can hardly be blamed for that.”

“But had I followed the obvious instead of looking for some mastermind behind Marvel, we would’ve been able to prevent this!”

“Sherlock stop beating yourself for what could have been, we encouraged Hyde and Lanyon to investigate Marvel and they were able to stop him in our stead.” I stood and went to his side, kneeling and putting a hand upon his arm. “You must remember that you’re not the only one in this fight, you have me, and we have the Society.”

“And they are closing their doors because I haven’t been able to stop this.”

“Sherlock…”

“Fine, fine, I am stopping.” He smiled at me tiredly, “Let us save our strange dreams for another night and drink some whiskey to calm our nerves?”

“I quite agree.”

Unbeknownst to us as we poured and rested before the fire, across the road, watching from the window that Sebastian Moran had once tried to shoot Holmes from, was the stranger who’d accosted us before.

He put down his binoculars and made a note in his book, frowning deep in confusion. “This doesn’t make sense… I need more information.”

A small individual came to his side, offering him a teacup. In a strange language, he thanked her and took a sip. “Soon Weena, we’ll figure this out, I promise.”

Even elsewhere still, Mr. Marvel was walking from his bathroom to his bedroom.

Suddenly he collapsed, clutching his chest and gasping for air. He scrambled down the hall to his room, where his half empty glass of whiskey was still waiting. A strange green ooze had dried where the whiskey had evaporated slightly, and the bottle itself had a strange greenish look to it. He gasped in shock and then in pain as a spasm ripped through his torso.

Marvel collapsed, seizing and shaking and coughing as something inside his chest moved vigorously and violently.

Until, with a scream, a creature ripped itself free through his mouth, skittering across the room and out the window, leaving Marvel’s corpse upon the floor.

Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this should not have taken six months for me to write and publish yet HERE WE ARE  
> haven't started writing the next installment, but it is in concept phase  
> thank you everyone for being patient with my flaky ass, and I hope you enjoyed!


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